I haunt the farmer's market at this time of year looking for peaches. I wheeled past the guy outside and then the one inside the door, heading through the crowd towards the Amish farmers in the back. Both of the others had peaches, boxes of peaches but you could not smell them. You see I buy peaches by the smell. If I smell that wonderful perfume and start drooling, I know. So the perfume increased as I got through the crowd and approached their booth. The sign said mass quantities were for sale and I bought a peck. For one person a mass quantity. The peaches at the front of the market were beautiful and tasteless but the ones grown by this Amish group are ugly to look at but ambrosia to eat. I'm glad some people are idiots so that there were peaches left for this very late riser.

A friend gushes over some beautiful new variety of white peach and brings me some because she knows I like peaches. They didn't taste like much of anything, sigh. The wonders of modern agribusiness. I like old varieties not because they are chic but because they actually taste like something. I also bought three heirloom tomatoes. My own are yet green.

Is there anything better at the end of summer than eating a ripe peach with the juice running down your chin? Or a yummy tomato sandwich? Another friend asked what would go on the sandwich, bacon, lettuce, cheese ?? and was surprised when I answered - a bit of mayo, salt & pepper on homemade bread. What could be better?